


You're Gonna Go Far, Kid

by floweredlonnie



Category: Reservoir Dogs (1992)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Drug Dealing, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Oral Sex, Pre-Canon, Prostitution, Smoking, Spit As Lube, Strippers & Strip Clubs, mentions of Jules from Pulp Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 04:27:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19456339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floweredlonnie/pseuds/floweredlonnie
Summary: That was why he was out on a Friday night in the middle of the fucking summer, wife-beater stuck to the dip in his back and leather jacket slung against one shoulder like he was James fucking Dean.He needed a sale.Taking place a decade before the events of the film: in which Freddy is a twenty-one year old drug dealer and Larry is just a man at a club.





	You're Gonna Go Far, Kid

**Author's Note:**

> Oh look, three years since I posted anything...  
> Okay, so I have NO excuse for this. I legit starting shipping these assholes after I watched the movie back in high school. I recently watched it again and all those feels came a flooding back. Since I've read almost all of the Creamsicle fics on here, I thought I'd throw my own into the fray. I hope y'all enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing.
> 
> and yes, the title is referencing The Offspring song. I've always associated it with Freddy Newandyke.

Freddy Newandyke really needed to reassess his life choices.

At twenty-one he should have been home after a long day at work, or maybe out on a date with a nice -but boring- girl his mom thought he looked nice with. 

Instead, he found himself casually leaning on the dingy brick wall of the side alley by a strip club. The cigarette pressed between his lips was stale, but he didn’t have the cash to buy a new pack. He had made rent, but that had wiped him out.

That was why he was out on a Friday night in the middle of the fucking summer, wife-beater stuck to the dip in his back and leather jacket slung against one shoulder like he was James fucking Dean.

He needed a _ sale. _

A group of suits walked by; three men chatting away, wedding rings tucked into their breast-pockets as they walked into the club.

Same shit, different day.

Freddy flicked the filter of his smoke into a nearby puddle, relishing in the sizzle for a moment before sauntering his way into the bar.

The bouncer, Jules, nodded at Freddy as he wandered in. Marcellus let him work in the club from time to time, so long as he didn’t get too rowdy.

He headed toward the bar, sizing up the various patrons of the evening. Most of them looked like they’d be more interested in coke than his weed, but there were a few that could do for a good mellow. Other men- he knew from the looks he got as he walked by- would want to partake in his  _ other _ wares.

Money was money tonight; he’d take what he could get.

“Beer.” He ordered, patting his pocket for his wallet.

Someone saddled up next to him, warmth radiating off him onto Freddy’s already flush skin.

“Whiskey, neat.”

The voice was low, rough, and smokey, like the first cigarette in the morning.

Freddy hazarded a glance through his bangs at the person standing next to him.

The guy was probably about Freddy’s height but  _ broad _ , built like he could take a punch and not flinch. His hair was a deep brown, slicked back to tame the curl. He had a decent tan, like he had spent a good part of his life outside, and the creases around his eyes that promised a life of laughing.

The guy was fucking  _ gorgeous _ .

Freddy didn’t stare long enough to get caught, but he took a good look to appreciate. If he didn’t need to work tonight, he’d probably try and chat the guy up.

Freddy had a type and he wasn’t ashamed.

The bartender set both drinks on the bar. Before Freddy had a chance to pick up the sweating bottle, it was snatched up with the whiskey. Affronted, Freddy squared up and faced the guy.

Oh  _ shit _ , he was even more attractive head on.

Deep set eyes were a warm brown that seemed to sparkle in the dim light of the bar. The guy wore a half-cocked smirk, a look that told Freddy the guy hadn’t grabbed his beer on accident.

“You old enough to be ordering things like this, kid?” He asked with an unmistakable melody of teasing in his voice.

“I’m older than I look.” Freddy shot back, sounding like a petulant child and not helping his case in the slightest.

The guy’s smile widened, eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that made Freddy’s stomach twist.

He handed the young man the beer, watching as Freddy’s thin fingers curled around the bottle.

They stared at one another for a breath. Freddy lifted the bottle to his lips, noting the way the guy’s eyes tracked the movement and zeroed in on his mouth. Freddy licked his bottom lip before tipping his beer in the man’s direction. The guy seemed to realize that he’d been staring and took a large sip of his whiskey as he averted his eyes.

_ Next time, when I’m not working… _ Freddy thought to himself before throwing the guy a wink and heading back into the throng of patrons around the bar.

\-----

Three dime bags and a blow in the bathroom, so Freddy was at least making progress. He would really prefer not to have to fuck anyone else tonight, at least not for money. He took an extra large swig of his beer, trying desperately to get the taste of cock out of his mouth. It wasn’t like he didn’t like sucking dick, but the guy had started crying once he came.

Major boner killer.

Checking the time, he sighed through his nose. It wasn’t quite 1am; he had time to bag a few more sales. Leaning against the bar, Freddy stretched his back until he felt the satisfying pop of his spine. Standing back up, he felt the distinct heat that came with someone sizing him up.

He turned and once again found himself staring at the guy from earlier. He was casually pressing a cigarette to his lips as he watched Freddy.  _ Fuck- that’s one hell of a look _ , Freddy thought, feeling his cock stir in his jeans.

Freddy reached for his beer, nearly tipping the bottle over. The guy chuckled from behind his cigarette. Swearing under his breath, the young man moved away from the bar. He needed to be working, not acting like a fucking teenager.

Freddy ended up talking with one of the dancers just as she came off stage. “How ya doin’?”

The woman smiled as she swished off the stage. She left a trail of body glitter in her wake as she walked.

“Hiya, Freddy.”

Freddy was surprised the woman remembered him. He wasn’t complaining if it meant he could make another sale.

The dancer motioned for him to follow and Freddy obeyed, hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket. They walked into the backstage, the dancer stopping to chat with a couple other girls before heading back into the dressing room.

“So whatcha got tonight, Freddy?” She asked, grabbing a robe off one of the hangers.

“My regular wares. Figured you might wanna to relax.”

The dancer smiled, “Yeah… gimme a dime, kiddo.”

It was better than nothing. Freddy fished a bag from his pocket and traded it with the dancer. The woman’s fingers lingered for a moment in Freddy’s hand before tucking the bag into her g-string. Under any other circumstance, Freddy would  _ not _ even consider the woman, but he could really use the money. Just as he was about to tell her his prices, a sharp series of knocks sounded on the door.

“Hey, they need you back out on stage.” A voice called authoritatively through the cheap wood.

The dancer swore and affixed Freddy a look as she walked out the door.  _ Don’t leave, got it. _ Freddy thought, sitting down on one of the couches strewn about the dressing room. Pulling the pack from his pocket, he looked forlornly at his last cigarette. After this, he’d have enough for a new pack and groceries. Lighting the little stick, he took a long, satisfying drag.

“You’re a busy boy tonight, kid.”

Freddy’s eyes shot up, widening a fraction as he stared at the man from earlier.

He was leaning against the doorway, brow half cocked as he waited for a response. Freddy mumbled something unintelligible around his cigarette before realizing how stupid he was making himself look. Taking the cigarette from between his lips, Freddy stood up and tried desperately to look cool.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about… And I’m not a kid.”

The guy’s smirk just grew as he stepped into the room.

Freddy tried to stand his ground, to look hard, but when the guy closed the door with a resounding  _ click _ , he knew he needed to shut up before his mouth got him into trouble.

The guy walked right up to him, close enough that Freddy could feel the heat coming off of him, could smell his cologne mixed with whiskey and cigarettes. He looked between the guy’s lips and his eyes, unconsciously biting his lip in thought.

“Well,” The guy began with a huffing chuckle, “if you’re not a kid, then you could give me a name to go with your face.”

Trying to keep his voice casual, he offered a short introduction. “Freddy.”

“Freddy, huh? You trying to solve a mystery?” It wasn’t until the guy lifted up the cigarette to his lips did Freddy notice he had stolen it right out of his hand.

_ Who the… How the fuck?! _

Freddy reached for the cigarette belatedly, realizing that was a  _ very _ bad idea on his part. The guy’s hand was curled around his wrist in an instant, thick fingers encasing the slender appendage with ease. He knows he should be affronted, or perhaps even slightly afraid, but all Freddy could feel was a raging pulse of arousal as it shot through him. The guy was looking at him expectantly, like he was waiting for Freddy to fight.

“That was my last cigarette…” He stated instead without so much as pulling his arm out of the loose grip. “And look, dude-”

“Larry.”

Freddy faltered, not expecting the guy to offer up a name so casually. Maybe it was fake.

“Larry… It ain’t like I’m not picking up on what you’re sending out. Hell, any other time- doesn’t matter. Thing is, I’m working, and unless you’re looking to buy…”

Larry seemed to study Freddy for a moment, stolen cigarette still pressed between his lips. His thumb pressed against the pulse point in Freddy’s wrist. Freddy knew his heart was racing, how could it not be? This situation was fucking nuts and he knew that if he had any sense at all, he should be scared. Scared was the furthest thing from what he was feeling.

“How much?”

Freddy balked, the trance over him seeming to shatter. “What?”

“How much?” Larry repeated calmly. “How much for the night?”

Freddy had never, in the entire time he’d been doing this, been asked to spend the entire night with someone. It was always a quickie in the bathroom or the alley, never anything more than an hour. This guy,  _ Larry _ , was propositioning him for the entire rest of the evening. Checking his watch, he did the math quickly in his head. That was just over four hours… A lot of time and more than enough for the guy to fuck and kill him if that was what he was angling for. Something in Freddy’s gut told him that wasn’t the guy’s motive. Throwing caution to the wind, Freddy leveled a heated gaze Larry.

“One hundred, and I pick where we go.”

The smile that spread across Larry’s face made Freddy’s stomach twist in excitement. Larry’s hand released Freddy’s arm and took a step back. He tugged his wallet from his back pocket and tugged a handful of bills from inside. Freddy’s eyes widened for the second time tonight, staring at the two hundred held between the guy’s fingers. A few hours, and he’d be set for a good two weeks. Cautiously, Freddy reached out and took the bills from the other man. They stared at one another for a beat before Freddy slipped the money into his pocket before nodding his head.

“Follow me…”

\-----

This was a monumentally stupid idea. 

One for the books, Freddy was sure.

He led Larry out of the bar through the back, out into the alley before realizing he had no fucking idea where they could go. He could take him back to his apartment but that was… not a good idea. He could find a cheap hotel but that was like throwing away money. Fuck… he didn’t think this through at all.

“Having second thoughts?” The voice behind him asked. It wasn’t condescending; it sounded almost... concerned.

Freddy ran his fingers through his hair, glad that he wasn’t facing the other man. He needed a cigarette.

“No… I just… Fuck man…”

Larry stepped closer, gripping Freddy’s shoulder and turning him around so he could look in his eyes. He looked completely unfazed by Freddy’s inner turmoil.

“You don’t do this much, do you, kid?”

Freddy made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, but the way his eyes were looking anywhere but Larry told him everything.

Larry shifted his hand from Freddy’s shoulder to the side of his neck, tugging him closer. When their lips touched, Freddy flinched as if he was expecting to be hit rather than kissed. It didn’t take long for him to react to Larry’s persistent but gentle kissing. He wrapped his fingers in the man’s shirt, moaning quietly when he felt a strong hand at his hip.

_ Fuck, _ Larry knew how to kiss and he was more than willing to show Freddy everything. It wasn’t until his back hit the night-cooled concrete did Freddy realize the other man had been backing him up. He was so engrossed in the way Larry’s hands felt on his skin and his lips on his own that he had completely lost his sense of space. He needed to be in control of this situation, but he knew that he wasn’t, and wasn’t going to be any time soon.

Freddy shifted so their hips were slotted together, groaning at the feeling of Larry’s erection pressed against his own, even trapped through layers of denim. He grunted, sliding a shaking hand down to Larry’s belt. The older man took a half-step back, letting Freddy have a bit of space to work.

Without any preamble, Freddy dropped to his knees.

This was his element, he could be in control and enjoy himself. His fingers unfastened Larry’s belt and pants, palming at the thick cock tenting his boxers. The murmured grunt of approval had Freddy tugging the fabric down to reveal turgid flesh.

“Fuck you’re big…” Freddy breathed, face heating when he realized he had said that aloud.

Larry chuckled, running his fingers idly through Freddy’s shaggy hair. Taking the motion as encouragement, he slid his tongue along the underside before swirling it around the head. He curled his fingers around the base, eyes rolling back, as he swallowed the other’s cock down. Freddy snaked his free hand down to the front of his own constricting jeans. He pressed the heel of his palm against his cock, groaning around his mouthful. Larry’s fingers twitched in Freddy’s hair like he was trying to hold himself back.

Freddy looked up through his eyelashes at the man above him, relaxing to allow all of Larry’s cock into his throat. Larry hissed a curse, the hand not in Freddy’s hair slapping against the brick of the alley. He swallowed, gagging around the mouthful. Freddy might have been a bit of a masochist, reveling in the aching burn in the back of his throat.

A sharp tug to his hair pulled Freddy from his self-indulgence. He pulled back and stared up at Larry, lips red and swollen, slick with precum and saliva.

Apparently Larry was a fan of the look if the feeling of his cock twitch in Freddy’s hand was any indication. Freddy flicked his tongue out and swiped it along his bottom lip, waiting for what the other would do next.

“Up.” Larry commanded, running his fingers through Freddy’s hair.

Eager to comply, Freddy stood and reached into a small inside pocket of his jacket to fish out a condom. He felt more than heard Larry chuckle. They were still practically chest to chest, breathing each other in. He tugged Freddy forward to smash their lips together. Freddy almost never kissed clients, especially after having a dick in his mouth, but the way Larry kissed him made his head spin with arousal. The strong hand on his belt pushed a surprised gasp from Freddy’s parted lips.

“H-how do you wanna do this?” He asked, trying not to sound like a horny teenager.

Larry chuckled, finishing his unfastening of Freddy’s belt and pants before taking the condom from his hand. “Turn around, hands on the wall.”

Freddy turned, shifting so he could push his jeans down his thighs. He wasn’t going to be more naked than absolutely necessary in an alley, but he needed a little wiggle room. Placing his hands on the wall, Freddy turned to look over his shoulder at Larry. He was stroking his cock idly, staring at the newly revealed flesh of Freddy’s backside. Feeling bold, Freddy pressed his ass back, shifting his hips. He tried not to flinch when Larry pressed fingers against his hole. Freddy hadn’t really had the forethought to prep before leaving his apartment. He mentally kicked himself and tried to relax enough to make things at least somewhat easier. 

Larry hummed in the back of his throat, removing his hands from Freddy. He licked his fingers before returning to Freddy’s skin. 

It wasn’t ideal, but he wasn’t going in dry. The soft grunt that Freddy released was far too sexy.

Larry worked his fingers into Freddy’s hole methodically, his free hand tracing soothing little circles into his skin. As soon as Freddy was pushing back against Larry’s fingers, he knew the kid was ready.

“Fuckin- Fuck, man.” Freddy rambled, head hanging between his shoulders.

Larry rolled the condom onto his cock, slicking himself with spit.

“I got you, I got you…”

The initial breach wasn’t painful, at least, not as painful as it could have been. Freddy appreciated how gentle Larry was being with him. Given how much he paid for Freddy, he could be as rough as he pleased and Freddy really wouldn’t have room to argue. He could feel the grime of the wall under his nails as he scratched his fingers against the brick. He could feel Larry’s fingers pressing bruises into the skin of his hips, and it shouldn’t be sexy to him, but it was.

The feeling of lips on Freddy’s neck forced a gasping moan from his mouth. His head hung between his shoulders, watching his cock bounce with every thrust. On a particularly deep thrust Larry pressed against his prostate. A shudder wracked through him. As much as he wanted to grab his cock and get himself off, he wasn’t sure if Larry was one of those guys who liked his partner getting off only from the fuck (as unrealistic as that was).

He opted instead to snake a hand down to push his shirt up.

He was so fucking close it hurt.

One of Larry’s hands moved from his hip and wrapped around his cock. Freddy hissed, voice cracking in sudden pleasure. It only took a few strokes of that thick, rough hand to have Freddy coming against the back alley wall.

“Fuck, kid…” Larry growled, his own hips stuttering in orgasm.

“H-holy fucking shit…” Freddy panted, trying desperately not to go boneless.

Larry was careful as he pulled out, taking careful measures not to jostle Freddy too much. Freddy could feel and hear him moving around behind him. He needed to pull up his pants.

Taking a few deep breaths through his nose to slow his heart, Freddy tugged his jeans up over his still shaking thighs.

Shifting off the wall, Freddy turned to look at Larry. He ran his fingers through his hair and smiled awkwardly. What was the protocol for this?

“S-so… uh, what do you wanna do now?” Freddy asked, trying to tamp down his nerves.

Larry turned to press Freddy back against the wall, crowding into his space. Freddy’s movements were still sluggish from his orgasm, so he wasn’t sure he could fight off a weapon. Larry curled his fingers through Freddy’s hair before pressing their lips together again. Freddy gripped Larry’s waist as he was kissed breathless. If Larry was angling for another round, he was gonna have to settle for a blow because Freddy was too over sensitive to go again.

“I want you to go home.” Larry stated when he had sufficiently kissed the other man senseless.

Freddy made a confused noise in the back of his throat, starting to say something before Larry shook his head.

“Go home. You don’t owe me the rest of your night.”

Before Freddy had a chance to reply, or even comprehend what Larry had said, the man was turning and walking out of the alleyway. Freddy was confused to be sure, but he was one hundred-seventy dollars richer and had just been thoroughly fucked.

Shifting his clothes back into a semblance of proper order, he stauntered his way out of the alley and toward the nearest convenience store for a fresh pack of cigarettes.

**Author's Note:**

> Ya made it to the end! Thank you so much for reading!   
> This maybe, tentatively, hopefully will have a second chapter that takes place during the film. I have... ideas. For now though, this can stand as a one-shot. If you wanna talk about Reservoir Dogs, come bother me on twitter at floweredlonnie.


End file.
